


sit and watch what we'll become

by afoolwhodreams



Category: Dickinson (TV)
Genre: Best Friends, Canon Compliant, F/F, F/M, Jealousy, Married Sue, Post-Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:34:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28095498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afoolwhodreams/pseuds/afoolwhodreams
Summary: so how do Emily and Sue go from talking about poems to touching foreheads and meeting editors?this is one way it might happen.orI'm spiralling, just give us the new season already please and thank you.
Relationships: Emily Dickinson/Susan "Sue" Gilbert
Comments: 13
Kudos: 94





	1. crescent moon, coast is clear

“Come on, I need to know! What did you think of my poems? Tell me!”

Sue finally stops handling Emily’s now slightly less ink covered face and looks at her.

“I love them. I always love your poems.”

The poet smiles, just before Sue adds

“but I can’t be your only reader anymore. You need to share your writing with the world.”

“But what if I don’t want the world? What if I just want…”

Emily takes a step forward, cupping Sue’s cheek with her hand.

“…you.”

Emily’s eyes briefly dart to Sue’s lips.

“Emily…”

Sue breathes her name in that way that makes the world stop for a second, with the anticipation of what is about to happen and the utter fear that this will finally be the time Sue tells her to stop, to never do this again. Never touch her again.

But she doesn’t. She never does. So Emily leans in, softly, nudging Sue’s nose with hers, touching foreheads and kissing her delicately. Devotedly.

When they part, Sue shakes her head slightly.

“You know we can’t keep doing this.”

Emily drops her hand from Sue’s face and just stares at her sadly. When Sue starts to walk away, Emily follows her.

She is taken aback by all the people they find in the house. She had forgotten there were other people there. Then again, she forgets everything else when she’s with Sue.

“There’s someone that I need you to meet.”

Sue guides her to a gentleman in his 30s, standing next to the fireplace.

“Sam Bowles, Emily Dickinson.”

The man – Sam – smiles at her, taking her hand to put a butterfly kiss there.

“Enchanted”

Emily feels slightly uncomfortable, but her interest is piqued with Sue’s next words.

“Sam is the editor of the Springfield Republican. Emily, here, is a marvellous poet.”

“Is that so?”

Mr Bowles is studying Emily with a glint in his eyes that the poet cannot quite decipher.

“Yes. Yes I am.”

“Anything I would have read?”

“Emily’s not been published yet, tragically”

Sue cuts in.

“Well, we must rectify that immediately, if you are as talented a poet as my friend here Mrs Dickinson seems to think.”

Emily is momentarily taken aback by the use of Sue’s married name.

Then reality sinks in.

Sue’s right. Things have changed. She is Austin’s _wife_ now. And as much as Emily might never get used to, or able to accept that, that is just how things are now.

“I can show you some of my work and you can judge for yourself.”

She tells him, with renewed confidence. Sue smiles, proudly.

“I’ll leave you to it, then.”

She says, walking away.

When she turns back around, she sees Emily and Sam chatting away amicably, laughing together. It appears she did it. She found Emily a new reader. And that’s a good thing. That’s what she wanted.

…Right?


	2. how's one to know?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emily receives an unexpected visit and Sue starts to see how her plan might - aka definitely does - backfire.

“Oh, it’s you.”

Emily’s smile falls a little as she opens the door to find Samuel Bowles on her doorstep.

“That kind of greeting might hurt a lesser man’s ego, you know.”

Sam smiles in his usual enigmatic way.

“Sorry, I thought you were someone else. But please, come in.”

Sam and Emily move to the living room. The coffee table is littered with scraps of paper.

“Are those your poems?”

“They- yes, they are, but they’re not finished yet.”

Emily rushes to collect them, intending to bring them up to her room.

“May I?”

Something about this man makes it hard to deny him anything he asks for. Emily just hands him one of the poems she is holding. She waits with bated breath as Samuel Bowles takes his time reading it. She even suspects he might be doing it on purpose, enjoying her agony.

“This is… good. It’s a good start.”

Emily’s face falls. Not what she was expecting.

“A good start?”

She asks, peeved.

“Well yes, it’s a bit raw. A bit stiff, perhaps. You did say they were not finished after all. But there’s definitely some potential there.”

Emily is nearly fuming, but she’s determined not to let it show. Unfortunately, hiding her emotions isn’t something she is necessarily good at. She rips her poem away from the man’s hands and starts physically pushing him towards the door.

“Thank you for your precious feedback, Mr Bowles. I will make sure to edit it so it might be to your liking.”

“Wait, Emily, wait.”

He manages to stop both of them before the door could be opened. As she has been pushing him, Emily’s hands are still on Samuel’s chest, and she is standing closer than she realised. She takes a step back, her hands starting to fall back, when Sam catches one in his.

“I could help you… loosen up. Your writing, that is.”

Emily looks into his eyes. Is this man really willing to publish her poems? What does he want in return? What would she be willing to do? What does _she_ want?

“Hey, so sorry I’m late, turns out parties are not as fun when you have to clean up after them yourself-“

Sue enters the house without knocking, falling silent when she sees Emily and Samuel standing very close to each other in the hallway. They step back when she comes in.

“Hello, Sue. Emily.”

He bids them goodbye with the tipping of his hat and then he is gone.

“What was that about?”

“He came by to read some of my poems.”

“Oh. That’s… good. That’s very good.”

Sue tries to convince both Emily and herself.

“You okay?”

“Mm-mm.”

“You know, I wasn’t sure about him at first. I mean, I don’t show my poems to just anyone but… there’s something about him. You may have been right about him.”

Emily says, turning away to enter the living room.

“I’m glad.”

And she should be. That was the whole reason she introduced them. But she is not.


	3. I'd live and die for moments that we stole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Samuel Bowles has the audacity to start coming around Emily's and Sue does not like that one bit.

Samuel Bowles starts coming and going from the Dickinson Homestead more and more often, and staying longer and longer.

Sue only happens to notice when she glances out her window, of course, or when she passes the house, returning from a trip into town. It’s not like she is actively keeping tabs on him and Emily. That would be ridiculous.

Her intention when introducing them had been to give Emily someone to talk to about her poetry who would be able to hold her conversation, give her substantial advice and maybe even help her get published. She wanted someone who might do what she as a housewife could not. She wanted her friend to feel less lonely, and her talent to be recognised.

Yet seeing Samuel Bowles come and go from Emily’s house so often, the poet waving him goodbye with a big smile each night, just rubs her the wrong way.

She goes to visit Emily one morning, when she’s sure she doesn’t have guests, and asks her how the collaboration is going. She is almost sure Emily _blushes_. She has not seen Emily blush… well, ever, other than when they used to sleep in her tiny bed together, but that was different. That was them.

She is not proud of this, but she asks Emily to use her bathroom and sneaks into the poet’s room. She goes straight for the desk, where an unfinished poem lies unguarded.

_The daisy follows soft the sun,_ _  
And when his golden walk is done,  
Sits shyly at his feet.  
He, waking, finds the flower near.  
"Wherefore, marauder, art thou here?"  
_ _"Because, sir, love is sweet!"_

Something falls onto the paper. Sue touches her cheek. Are those… tears?

She shakes her head and rushes out of Emily’s room. She marches towards the kitchen, where Emily is baking, alone. She quickly glances around, making sure nobody else is home, grabs Emily by the hand and drags her in a hidden corner of the room. She pushes Emily against the wall and kisses her passionately.

Emily shrieks, taken by surprise, flour stained hands raised in the air as to not touch Sue’s dress and stain it, but she relaxes into the kiss, returning it with the same passion.

After a few seconds, Sue moves as little away as possible, just far enough to be able to look into Emily’s eyes, studying them.

“What was that for?”

“I just wanted to make sure…”

Emily looks confused.

“Make sure of what?”

Sue smiles, shaking her head.

“Nothing.”

She kisses Emily one last time before releasing her completely.

“Sorry”

“You don’t ever have to apology for that.”

Emily realises how cheeky she sounds only after the words have left her mouth. Whatever. She means it. Sue smiles almost shyly. She looks relieved.

She grabs an apron for a nearby chair and puts it on, going to stand next to Emily, like they used to.

“Don’t you have things to do?”

Sue takes some of the dough Emily is folding and starts doing the same.

“I’d rather be here with you.”

Emily smiles. They both keep working in comfortable silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imma be honest, this is as far as I've gotten with this story. I have a couple ideas for where it might go, hopefully inspiration will strike again soon. Hope you like it :)


	4. so yeah, it's a war

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shit hits the fan, fam.

Sue loves being rich.

It sounds bad, even as she’s thinking it to herself, but there is just no other way of putting it. The freedom of being able to do whatever she wants, whenever she wants to, is intoxicating and like nothing she’s ever felt before. It’s addictive.

And she is an addict. Her drug? Parties and art. Actually, more accurately what she truly loves is the feeling she gets from those parties. The feeling of people admiring her. Envying her. She loves strolling around, champagne in her hands, smiling at everybody, dancing with Austin, showing off their seemingly perfectly happy life.

She cannot quite seem to enjoy the party she is currently throwing though. The European magician she hired was a complete success. He’s still chatting away with a few of her guests, impressing them with some cheap tricks. But Sue’s eyes are fixated on one single person in the room.

Samuel Bowles.

Young, handsome, smug Samuel Bowles. She likes Sam. Well, she doesn’t mind Sam. He’s a go-getter, some might argue not unlike herself, capable of making himself likeable and even desirable in most situations. Like he is doing just now with Mary Schermerhorn, who is laughing at every single word leaving his mouth. He could not possible be _that_ hilarious.

Why is she even bothering with Sam? Him chatting up some random girl should be good for her. Should distract him from his… flirtation with Emily, or whatever it is. Neither has really told Sue anything, but she is not blind, and she knows Emily well enough to know something is up.

And for him to not only have the audacity to take Emily for himself, but not even show any kind of loyalty or respect for her? Now that is just unacceptable.

“Hello, Sam. Are you enjoying yourself?”

She marches right up to him, interrupting him mid-sentence.

“Susan. Our wonderful host. Everything is fantastic, as usual.”

“It really is incredible, Mrs Dickinson, thanks for having me!”

Sue only acknowledges Mary with the briefest nod, then continues talking directly to Sam.

“Where’s Emily tonight?”

“She is home, I suppose. I am not her keeper after all.”

He forces a laugh, uncomfortable under Sue’s severe gaze, but hiding it well.

“One might think you were, seeing as you’re with her every day”

“Yes, well, an editor’s work is never done. Writing, after all, is rewriting. I know your approach as an editor was to mostly just tell Emily her poems are incredible, but that’s not helping her. She needs constructive criticism, or she shall never improve.”

“I did not realise she needed improving. Her poems always seemed perfect to me.”

Sam smiles in a rather condescending way.

“And that’s the difference between a friend and a professional editor.”

“I just hope you don’t underestimate how special Emily is.”

“My dear Sue, I would never.”

“Can you pass the lettuce?”

Sue hands the food to Emily. They are cooking together in the Dickinson kitchen whilst Mrs Dickinson and Maggie clean the garden.

“So how was the party last night?”

“You’d know, if you came.”

Sue gives Emily a pointed look.

“You know that’s not really my scene.”

“What happened to parties being like shipwrecks?”

“That was many moons ago. Nobody would dare compete with Susan Dickinson’s incredible feasts now.”

Emily bumps her affectionately with her hips, Sue smiling coyly. She is proud of her parties.

“Besides, I had to write. Well, rewrite. Sam gave me a ton of notes.”

Sue’s lightness from moments ago fades.

“He was there, you know. Sam.”

“Oh?”

“He was chatting up some girl. Mary something.”

Emily hums in acknowledgement but says nothing more.

“That doesn’t bother you?”

“Why should it?”

“Aren’t you like… a thing?”

Emily cocks an eyebrow at her.

“A thing?”

“I mean, I thought you were together.”

“Well, we’re not.”

“Then what are you?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Try me.”

Emily sighs, letting go of the lettuce she was cleaning and turning to face Sue.

“I mean, we do enjoy each other’s company and he has been reading a lot of my poems and giving me notes. A lot of notes.”

“And you’re okay with that? Enjoying each other’s company?”

“I mean… it’s strange. He’s like this magnetic force. When I’m with him, I don’t feel quite like myself. I feel like I just want to make him happy.”

Emily blushes at the revelation. Sue’s stomach turns, and not in a good way. Emily can’t hold Sue’s stare and goes back to the lettuce to keep her eyes and hands busy.

“Like with Ben? Like… with me?”

The poet shakes her head.

“Not like with Ben. Definitely not like with you. It’s like I don’t even recognise myself sometimes but I just can’t stop it.”

“I don’t like this.”

“Yeah well, he’s my best shot at getting published, you said it yourself.”

“But not like this.”

“Like what?”

“You having to forget who you are in order to do it”

“I’m not forgetting who I am”

“You just said you are”

“I didn’t- it’s just a different approach, is all.”

“I think you should stop seeing him.”

Emily drops the lettuce with a thud, turning back to Sue.

“What?”

“It’s not good for you, Em.”

“Not good for me, or not good for _you_ , Sue?”

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t think I know what’s going on?”

Emily tries to sound as non-confrontational as possible, taking a deep breath before speaking again.

“What do you want from me, Sue?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you tell me now that you’re married, we shouldn’t sneak around anymore, then you introduce me to Sam, then you come kiss me in the kitchen to, what, establish your territory somehow? And now you want me to stop seeing him, too?

Don’t you get it? You have a life now. A whole life that’s all yours. A family, soon, too.”

Emily takes out a piece of paper from her dress and holds it up.

“This is all I have. This is my family. My life. And Sam’s been helping me with it. But that doesn’t suit you because I’m not just sitting here pining for you every hour of every day?”

“That’s not fair, Emily.”

“Exactly, it isn’t! But isn’t that what you want? For me to be here for you whenever you feel like it- for everybody, to be just sitting there, waiting for you to want them?”

“Is that what you think?”

“Is that not the truth?”

The girls stare at each other, standing face to face, almost nose to nose, with anger in their eyes.

“Tell your mother I’m sorry, I had to go home and make my own husband dinner.”

Sue takes off her apron, throwing it unceremoniously onto a nearby chair, leaving Emily behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this might be kind of where they're going with Sue's character, I tried to do her justice.

**Author's Note:**

> title from taylor swift's "ivy", aka the emisue anthem, obvs.


End file.
